


Rationality (and a lack thereof)

by SlimeQueen



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Belly Rubs, Cuddling, M/M, Making Out, Mark jerks off tho, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, No Smut, Oops, Sharing a Bed, the MH is sfw dont worry!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 10:15:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14998688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlimeQueen/pseuds/SlimeQueen
Summary: Donghyuck slides into bed with Mark, presses a too-warm hand to his sternum, and says in a low voice, "my stomach hurts."And so begins a day of hell for Mark Lee.





	Rationality (and a lack thereof)

**Author's Note:**

> hello my brain isn't working so! let it be known i started this at 4am also btw the m rating is just for jaeten and mark being a gross teenage boy, that is all  
> Please don't repost my fics anywhere without my permission!

Mark wakes up to the smell of flowers, a semi-hard on, and Donghyuck nuzzling up against his throat, warm fingers finding their way up Mark’s loose sleeping shirt.

The worst part about having an omega cuddling up to you, a young and very much _not_ self-restrained alpha, in the middle of the night is that Donghyuck can smell his surprise, his obvious interest, the way his heart melts like warm honey in his chest.

The best part is literally every other thing. Donghyuck’s smell is nearly overwhelming, sweet and floral and warm, and Mark pushes him away, still half asleep, groaning, “Go away, it’s too early for this.”

“Make me,” Donghyuck snaps back, smacking his hands away and trying to stick his own up against Mark’s chest again. Then, voice softening, “My stomach hurts.”

Of course it does. Is there ever a heat that passes where Donghyuck’s stomach _doesn’t_ hurt? Is there ever a heat that passes where Donghyuck’s first natural instinct isn’t to come bother Mark about it until he does something?

Mark’s learned to just go along with it by now. The first couple times he’d tried, Donghyuck lands in a heap at the floor off the side of Mark’s bed, whining and complaining about how mean Mark is. Eventually, Mark just starts letting him do what he wants, because Donghyuck is so much less annoying when he’s getting what he wants.

Unfortunately, Donghyuck’s wants seem to align with Mark not getting any sleep, Mark being annoyed, and Mark practically ready to bust a nut in his boxers.

“What do you want me to do about it?” Mark grumbles, even though he knows what Donghyuck wants. Not that he wants to give in just yet. It’s all part of their little push and pull game. Donghyuck doesn’t like asking directly, and Mark won’t relent unless he does.

“My stomach _really_ hurts,” Donghyuck says again, and even in the dark of the room, Mark can practically see his pout.

“Go take some painkillers,” Mark says, grabbing back the section of the blanket Donghyuck has tugged up around his shoulders. He gets an indignant shriek and a hearty pull on the blanket in response, so he lets go, lets Donghyuck steal a bit more until they’re pressed right up against each other under it.

His body’s already begun to burn supernaturally warm, clammy when Mark presses a curious hand to his throat. Under his fingers, Donghyuck’s pulse beats just a bit too quickly to be normal.

“Please,” Donghyuck says quietly, fingers scrunching up where they’re pressed against the bottom of Mark’s ribcage, blunt nails dragging against his skin.

Mark very carefully angles his knees up, puts some distance between them. “Please what?” He says, still stalling.

Donghyuck takes him by surprise. He swings a leg around Mark’s hip, pulls them flush together again, and Mark makes the most embarrassing squeaky noise, feels the drag of hot skin against skin, and then Donghyuck’s nosing into his neck again, handsy as ever, fingers stroking up the back of Mark’s shirt to clutch at his shoulder blades.

“Please stop being an idiot before I find another alpha to cuddle with,” Donghyuck says dryly, the words tickling the base of Mark’s throat, make goosebumps erupt over his arms.

Mark’s typically a pretty coolheaded guy- he doesn’t have much of a temper, or emotions that run rampant enough to make him do things he’d ever view as nonsensical. His sense of logic has always been particularly strong.

Which is why his brain screams at him to stop the second he grabs Donghyuck around the waist, pulls him so close that he can feel the omega’s heart thudding unevenly in his chest, can smell the sweat on him, and god, it’s really not helping the chaotic whirlwind of thoughts that barrage him one by one, the tamest of which is, _bite, bite, bite_.

Mark needs to calm the fuck down.

He grabs Donghyuck’s thigh, hoists it up a bit so it rests more comfortably on his waist, and Donghyuck’s breath hitches in his throat.

Steady, he has to remind himself, even as his heart beats right out of his chest. Calmly, slowly.

“Does it hurt a lot?” He asks, trying desperately to stop the frantic urge to bury his face in Donghyuck’s skin and never come out.

The younger boy nods miserably, an action Mark feels more than sees from their position. “Fucking sucks,” Donghyuck groans, “Kiss it better, hyung.”

Mark is _calm_ , god damn it. He is logical and composed, he tries telling himself. Only, his body isn’t really cooperating with that agenda right now. Instead, his hands find their way to Donghyuck’s hair, the strands soft against his fingers, and they curl into it, careful not to pull the roots too much, He guides Donghyuck’s face up, angles his own down, and they meet in the middle.

Donghyuck’s mouth is as warm as the rest of him, lips soft and pliant when Mark licks into his mouth, more tongue than anything because he really can’t be bothered right now.

He could kiss him for hours, Mark realizes dizzily as Donghyuck sucks on his tongue, and at the same time scratches his nails over Mark’s ribs.

It’s messier than usual, both because they’re sleepy and because neither of them can think clearly, and Mark feels saliva stretch and break between them when they part for air, lips slicked over with it. Even Donghyuck’s saliva tastes weirdly pleasant on his tongue, which should be kind of gross because it’s just _spit_ , but Mark’s alpha body is processing it as _warm_ and _slick_ and _tastes like Donghyuck_ , so maybe there’s more to it.

Mark licks his lips. Composes himself into some semblance of being self-aware. Clears his throat because his voice is stuck somewhere down there, and it comes out all rough around the edges when he rasps, “you okay?”

“Just fine,” Donghyuck whispers back, and Mark feels his breath against his lower lip. He’s way too close, sweet scent pouring over Mark in heady waves that make his focus both oddly disjointed and zeroed in at the same time.

Donghyuck wraps his arms around him again, and Mark feels that unconquerable heat through their clothes, radiating off Donghyuck and into him, turning his skin clammy. By morning, he knows Donghyuck will most likely be soaked with sweat, hair matted to his forehead. And by extension, he will also be sticky all over (and not in the way he wants) and Jaehyun will never stop being an asshole about it because he’s a sadist that loves laughing about this kind of shit.

But for now, Mark tries very hard to visualize Doyoung in the shower. There is no stronger boner killer than Doyoung with a loofah. Except maybe Johnny with a loofah.

“Thanks,” Donghyuck sighs then, right when Mark’s got himself under control again, and does this cute little nuzzling thing into Mark’s chest, and Mark has to imagine Doyoung washing his back all over again.

“No problem,” Mark says, dread already settling in the pit of his stomach.

-

The thing about heats is, Donghyuck is constantly on edge, which means Mark is constantly on edge, which means the rest of the dreamies are also constantly on edge, which means-

Basically, everyone is on edge, and Mark is really, _really_ trying hard to think about Doyoung showering all the time.

 In fact, he’s thought about it so many times within the past three hours that he’s starting to become desensitized.

Donghyuck gets the day off (omega benefits) and gets to choose someone to stay at the dorm with him and make sure he’s not going out of his mind. Of course, because he loves making Mark’s lifespan shorter, he grins sweetly up at Taeyong and says, “I’d like Jaehyun hyung to stay with me, please.”

He knows how stressed Mark gets when he’s not around, how easily he snaps at everyone at practice because of how agitated he is. Unfortunately for Mark, he’s got vocal lessons right in the morning when his voice is absolute shit, and he’s got them with _Chenle_ , who was probably blessed by angels or some shit when he was a baby.

Before he’s dragged off to the studio, he stomps into Donghyuck’s room with flaming cheeks, throws a shirt at him, and says tightly, “If you want, you can wear that.”

Donghyuck squints at him. “Gee, thanks,” he says, but the effect of his _mean voice_ is kind of ruined by the flush in his cheeks, the deliriousness in his dark eyes, “I love getting your dirty clothes!”

Mark throws a halfhearted glare his way. “Take it or leave it,” he says, and lets the door slam on the way out.

Donghyuck shouts through it, “Maybe I will!”

-

Practice is awful. He’s bad at high notes on a good day, and today, he’s just plain awful, voice cracking every time he tries to hit the note Chenle’s hitting with such ease.

He can’t keep his mind off Donghyuck at home. He wouldn’t ask Jaehyun to cuddle, would he? Not even Donghyuck would be so vindictive.

Mark’s kidding himself. It’s just like Donghyuck to be so vindictive.

It takes him an hour to cave, begging the instructors to let him take the rest of the day off. It’s only when Doyoung takes pity on him and argues on his behalf that they let him go. They take the van to the studio most days, but Mark doesn’t have time to hunt down the driver. He runs the entire ten blocks to the dorm, slams his thumb into the elevator button so many times that the lady waiting for it with him gives him a dirty look.

He really can’t bring himself to care.

He sprints down the hall to the dorm, and to his surprise, he finds it unlocked. Really, it’s a safety hazard. Why set a key code in the first place if Jaehyun’s just going to be an idiot?

He kicks his shoes off, then thinks better of it and lines them up neatly next to the other pairs and makes his way further into the apartment.

Everything seems quiet enough at first. The kitchen is empty. Mark grabs a bottle of water because he’s out of breath from running home, downs it in seconds, and tosses it in the recycle. Then he crosses the hall to the living room. He might as well check up on Donghyuck sooner rather than later.

Mark stops short in the doorway of the living room. This is definitely not what Jaehyun is supposed to be using his day off for.

He’s got Ten by the hips, half holding him in place, half for leverage, Ten’s upper body bent over the back of the couch. His eyes are screwed shut, fingers digging into the leather and holding on for dear life.

It’s morbid curiosity, Mark tries to convince himself as he creeps closer, dick already hardening in his sweatpants. He doesn’t need to see what Jaehyun is doing at the front of the couch. It will only ruin that couch forever in his eyes. He’ll never sit there again, and he quite liked that couch, so why should he ruin it for himself?

He takes another step forward.

Okay, so Jaehyun is holding Ten’s ass apart and tonguing into him, and at first Mark doesn’t know if the feeling in his stomach is his body getting ready to heave up his light breakfast or the blood rushing to his dick all at once. Then Ten makes a noise like a sob, gyrates his hips back, so fucking filthy, and Mark knows that the image will be burned into his eyes forever. Blink. Ten’s ass. Blink. Ten’s ass.

“Oh, hey Mark,” Jaehyun says then, raising his head. His chin is slick, lips swollen and dark pink. Mark wants so badly to just die already. “What’s up?”

Mark squeaks out a hello, stuttering over the words. “I-I just came to check on-“

Jaehyun snaps, as if suddenly remembering something. “Oh, right,” he says, and Mark knows for sure that he is 100% an evil sadist, “That was supposed to be my job for the day.”

Ten groans then, kicks a leg out blindly and catches Jaehyun in the side. “No offense, Mark, but we were kind of busy here.”

“Right,” Mark says way too fast, “Right, I’ll just go,” and books it down the hall.

He hesitates in front of Donghyuck and Jaehyun’s door, glances down at his disheveled clothes, his sweat-slick neck, the very obvious outline of his cock in his sweatpants.

Definitely not.

Instead, he heads for the shower, strips down and jumps into the spray before it’s even warmed up. The shock of ice water clears his head, even if only a little.

Mark hates this- it makes him feel so oddly dirty, so depraved as he pours some body wash into his palm ( _alpha scented,_ the bottle proclaims, but Mark thinks it smells kind of like a middle school locker room) and wraps it around his swollen cock.

He braces himself back against the tile wall, closes his eyes, slides his fist down the reddened length. His mind isn’t anywhere in particular, but the scent of flowers makes his mouth water, and the image of Ten’s hips is kind of hard to get out of his head.

It’s those two things that have him fucking up into his own fist, bottom lip caught between his teeth, and ultimately, it’s what has him cumming, knees buckling and balls drawing up close to his body.

And then there’s the aftermath. Curling hot shame in his stomach, guilt because he’s doing _this_ instead of making sure Donghyuck is hydrated and feeling okay, and the ineffable feeling of want to be close to Donghyuck, to press kisses to his cheeks and forehead and just give him anything he wants, for once.

There’s a word for it stamped in Mark’s old middle school biology book. _Mates_. Taeyong doesn’t like when they use the M word at the dinner table, but they all know it. Donghyuck and Mark are connected, profoundly, inexplicably, and helplessly.

He dresses quickly after his shower, legs guiding him as if of their own will towards Donghyuck’s room. His hair’s still wet, dripping cool water down his neck and down the collar of his shirt. He focuses on that feeling instead of the cloying floral fragrance in the room.

“Hey,” he says quietly, squatting down next to the boy-sized lump under the covers, “You feeling okay?”

To his relief, there’s a half empty bottle of water on the floor next to the bottom bunk, another fully empty one lying on its side halfway under the bed.

“Tired,” Donghyuck says, and he sounds it, all worn down even though he hasn’t gotten out of bed all day. “and my stomach _really_ hurts.”

Mark feels sympathy pang in his chest from the softness of Donghyuck’s voice, the way his hand darts out, scorching fingers latching onto Mark’s wrist and pulling him closer. Mark lets himself be pulled into the bed, kicking the covers aside because Donghyuck’s body temperature is enough to keep him warm.

He presses a kiss to Donghyuck’s swollen lower lip, and the younger boy kisses back messy and feverish, leaves Mark’s mouth slick and tender. “Welcome home,” Donghyuck mumbles against his lips, and it’s like something slots into place in Mark’s chest.

They find a position good enough, Donghyuck’s body tucked into the parenthesis of Mark’s, the warmth bleeding off his back and into Mark’s chest, and Mark’s hands instinctively creep over Donghyuck’s stomach, pressing flat against the cotton of his shirt. It’s the shirt Mark had thrown his way in the morning, he notes with some satisfaction. For all the complaining Donghyuck does, he can be persuaded so easily.

Donghyuck hums so sweetly when Mark’s fingers slide under the shirt, cool palms pressing to his overheated skin directly, and Mark leans forward, presses a kiss to the curve of his cheek just because he can.

“You totally jerked off before this, didn’t you?” Donghyuck says serenely. The picture of quintessential fucking calmness.

“No,” Mark lies through his teeth, pinching Donghyuck’s stomach hard enough that he yelps, throws an elbow back and tries to hit Mark in the ribs.

“It’s fine; so did I. Well, not right now, because I’m not gross like you are, but earlier this morning.”

“Gross,” Mark mumbles, his face probably burning as warm as Donghyuck’s internal temperature.

His palms sweep over soft skin, again and again, and Donghyuck practically melts in his arms, a low sleepy noise escaping his mouth. He feels warm fingers wrap around his wrist and tug his hands lower, to Donghyuck’s lower stomach where he’s learned the ache is most concentrated, and he gently digs the heels of his palms in, massaging soft skin and a thin layer of softness and underlying tense muscle.

“Hyuck?”

Donghyuck hums to show he’s listening, but too tired to respond.

“How did you know I jerked off?”

“I can smell it on you.” His words dissolve into a moan at the end when Mark’s fingers press into a particularly tender spot, and he says softly, “Stop overthinking things, you dork.”

Donghyuck’s the one who always goes by instinct. No consequence, no worries, no thinking things through like Mark tends to do. Donghyuck would probably like to be sitting in Mark’s lap, so intertwined that it would be hard to distinguish Mark’s limbs from Donghyuck’s. It’s only because he knows Mark’s hesitation that he holds himself back, no matter how much it hurts.

Mark presses his lips together. His face is already in the crook of Donghyuck’s neck. He could just inhale and lose himself in the overwhelming scent, in the floral and warmth and let the desire he’s held at bay churn over his stomach like it wants to.

Instead, he presses another kiss to the edge of Donghyuck’s jaw, sighs, and keeps rubbing his tummy.

**Author's Note:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/_johnten)


End file.
